


God's Lawyer Better Be Ready

by Fireauricle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Dean Winchester, Angel Sam Winchester, Angst at first but Cas went to Hell so that's expected, Apocalypse for the plot, Bobby and his awesome beard because I said so, Bottom!Cas, Dean left the handprint on Cas's ass, Except Dean, He's sick of everyone's shit but still deals with it, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Gabriel, M/M, No one's impressed, Smut & fluff in later chapters, reverse!verse, top!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireauricle/pseuds/Fireauricle
Summary: Castiel Novak sold his soul to save his brother and ended up going to Hell, only to be raised from Perdition by a shady angel in too much plaid. Everything goes on from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do not be fooled by the summary. This fic is mostly shameless fluff with a bit of smut. The apocalypse is only for the plot. 
> 
> Based on this: http://diminuel.tumblr.com/post/164678803355/steffi-i-have-a-headcannon-regarding

Something was wrong.

Castiel was supposed to be dead. And in Hell, can’t forget that.

He remembered the events that led up to that very clearly. He had made a deal to save his brother and ended up with one year before the hounds came for him.

A lot happened during that year. Gabriel gave him the silent treatment for about a month, only making snide comments about sacrificially inclined dumb idiots. After the gravity of the situation set in, Gabriel threw himself into looking for a way to annul the deal while Castiel did what he did best.

He hunted.

He probably wouldn't go to Hell if the hounds didn't get him. Alas, he lived the entirety of that one year. No matter how strong the monster was or how outnumbered he was, he won.

Turns out there was another downside to being raised by hunter Naomi Novak other than constant comparisons and an upbringing any psychiatrist would have a field day with.

When the day came for him to die, he went quietly. Gabriel argued, like he always does, but Castiel said that the honour of killing him should go to diabetes, not hellhounds there for his brother’s soul. He said goodbye to Gabe and Bobby, made them promise to cremate whatever would be left of him and drove off to a quiet field a few miles outside Sioux Falls. The last he saw of them was Bobby’s worn face that looked like he had seen too much tragedy to even properly react to it and Gabriel’s crying one, for once devoid of any candy. He parked somewhere his car would be easily seen and waited.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

He first heard them around 4 p.m. Invisible and with growls that were terrifying even for a seasoned hunter like him. For the first time in a long time, Castiel felt true fear and wondered if he should have kept a homemade explosive with him. At least Gabe and Bobby wouldn’t have to see what became of him.

Even though it was futile, he got out of the car and ran. He knew they would catch up, it was the principle that mattered. If nothing else, it would at least give some false reassurance that he died fighting.

The bites were painful, flesh and muscles being ripped out from his body by their powerful jaws and bones breaking. He was a religious man and even though Naomi lost her faith when her husband was killed by Azazel and Gabriel lost his when he saw his little brother, 6 years of age, struggling to hold a shotgun, he didn't. So he prayed.

He didn't pray for a miracle to let him live. That would mean Gabriel’s death. He had read the contract he signed and the clause that was there.

_‘If the signatory fails to meet the terms of the contract, the person/place/commodity etc. in regards of which the contract is being signed will be forfeit.’_

He prayed for it to be swift. He prayed for Gabriel to be able to find a new life away from the unnecessary guilt of being the indirect cause of his brother’s death. And as an afterthought, just when he was teetering on the edge of blissful unconsciousness, he prayed to keep his soul clean in Hell.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

His prayers went unanswered.

He was told that his death was the longest in over a century by Alastair, the torturer assigned for him in the Pit. His brother had thrown himself into hunting and alcohol, and Castiel was scared to know that even if they wouldn't do anything to Gabe, he was being watched.

Alastair took great pleasure in finding new ways to torture him, always ending the sessions with one question. _‘Ready to start internship yet, Righteous Man’_

That was another thing. Alastair always addressed him as the Righteous Man and Castiel would ask what that was about if he wasn't busy stifling his screams.

Regardless of what kind of torture had been used, he always had one answer.

_‘No’_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Castiel was told he resisted for 40 years, Hell’s time. To him it felt like 40 centuries and 40 seconds simultaneously. A voice that sounded like Gabriel’s told him that it was okay, he had to break someday with all that he went through, but his conscious told him he was a despicable vermin for breaking so easily.

There was another soul, except he was free this time and he was supposed to be the torturer. It was a young woman who had sold her soul to fix her family. Her mother was an alcoholic, her father a cheating gambler down on his luck and she had been working double jobs as a waitress and a maths tutor to pay the bills. She wanted it to stop.

Her face had an expression of serenity even as Castiel picked up a blade, eyes far away as she remembered the possibly best years of her entire short life with a family where no one was at each other’s necks anymore. Castiel let her remember it for a while and when he felt Alastair’s gaze on him, he walked up and stabbed her in the shoulder, wrenching a scream of agony from her and tears from his own eyes.

His eyes burned, and at first he thought it was the smoke of the Pit, but then he realized that it was something else. Alastair’s skin was burning in patches and unearthly screams tore out of his throat as well as from all others in the Pit, demons or souls.

He looked up to see a blinding light advancing down, burning everything in its wake. For a moment he was glad. Maybe this was a new kind of torture, where Alastair made it seem as if he had broken and now his punishment was coming. Maybe he hadn't said yes.

He miscalculated how fast the light would reach him, because one moment he was staring up, hoping to be forcefully yanked out of yet another one of Alastair’s many fantasies and the next he was encased in light, deceptively warm for something that rained destruction upon Hell and the last thing he remembers was hearing a disembodied voice in his mind, terrifying in its beauty, exclaiming.

_“Castiel Novak has been saved.”_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Now Castiel was here, wherever here was supposed to be, wondering how the hell he was alive again.

First things first, if he was alive, he needed air and the air he was breathing was stale so he was probably in a box. Buried? Possibly, although it wouldn't make any sense. Hunters always get cremated so their bodies can’t be used by other creatures.

He reached out and felt wood beneath his fingertips. _‘Definitely buried.’_ He felt around in his pockets to see if he had something he could use, even though that was highly unlikely. He had his wallet, a few receipts and a lighter. He could use the lighter to see what he was buried in and how strong it was, but he could also set fire to himself with the little space he had so he opted to break out of the coffin and hope he wouldn’t bury himself alive.

It took some kicks and a lot of dirt to the face, but Castiel managed to pull himself out of the ground. He took deep breaths while looking around. Fresh air after years of smoke was no excuse for neglecting to observe his surroundings. What he saw nearly caused him to let out the sweet, fresh, nature-filled breath he had taken.

The scarecrow about 100 yards away from him told him he was in the field where the hounds got him. The entire field around him levelled like a hydrogen bomb had been thrown there told him that whatever raised him from Hell was too powerful to be any supernatural creature he knew.

He pulled himself up with the help of the crudely built cross over his unexpected grave and sat there for a while, catching his breath and wondering what to do. He needed to find out what pulled him out of Hell and why, and the only person he knew to have those kind of resources was Bobby. He could make his way to Bobby's house on foot, but it was just far enough that he’d probably need to rest somewhere or ask someone for a lift.

He got up with a groan and started walking North, figuring if he could reach Sioux Falls someone there would be more inclined to help him as he was a fairly common face there. Started being the key word as he could see a car a few metres away. Jogging up to it, his eyes narrowed into his trademarked squint when he saw that it was a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, with the keys in the driver's side keyhole which struck Castiel as odd because no one leaves a classic muscle car around with the keys still in and just wanders away. In Castiel’s experience, only two kinds of people had classic muscle cars; old rich men with too much money to spare and young teenagers trying to establish their hypermasculinity by driving their fathers’ cars. Either way, Castiel didn't trust this car and he was not going to go anywhere near it, even if it meant walking all the way back.

“Why don’t you stay here and I’ll walk back.” Castiel said to the car, looking it over once again and then turning away.

He walked a few steps and sighed. _‘Now I’m talking to cars. Great’._

Castiel started and nearly jumped when a horn sounded behind him. He whirled around but there was no other car there, except the Impala. He tried to look through the windshield to see if he had proven his madness to some stranger, but by all accounts the car looked empty. He made to turn around but was once again interrupted by the Impala’s, frankly rude, horn honking at him.

“Fine!” Castiel grumbled, walking back and getting in the car. “But if I die I’m putting it in my will to send you to the car pound.”

He started the engine and was surprised that bar a weird rattling noise, the car seemed to work just fine. The car was mostly empty, with a toy soldier in the ashtray and two newspapers on the passenger seat. On checking he found out the newspapers were from 12th May and 18th September of the same year.

“Four months…”

So there was a chance that Gabriel was still at Bobby's house. It could be possible that all Alastair told him about Gabriel was a lie to make him break faster. This reminded him of another important question - would they believe that he had been miraculously raised by something inhuman? Deciding to leave the thinking for later, Castiel drove towards Sioux Falls.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Castiel was a good distance away from his burial site when he saw a gas station and decided to make a pit stop. He was dirty, hungry and thirsty and maybe he would have a better chance of being recognized by Bobby if he at least cleaned himself up a bit.

He tried to open the door but it didn't budge. _‘Locked.’_ He looked around and, making sure no one was around, went around to a window and smashed it in with his elbow, climbing in.

The gas station had been abandoned for a while, given the amount of dust on everything. Castiel looked around if he could find something edible and came up with a few packets of doritos and bottles of water. After drinking enough water that he thought he would throw up, he took the rest of the bottles and went into the bathroom.

It was hard to see in the dim light, but he could still tell he looked terrible. A good look showed him healthy enough, his state only betrayed by his dull, tired eyes. He stretched, wincing when he heard his joints pop back and took off his shirt and undershirt to clean himself and at least be somewhat presentable and not like a man who just crawled out of hell. Which he technically did, but no one needed to know that.

He balled up his undershirt and poured water over it, thinking a makeshift sponge bath would be good enough for now. He ran the undershirt over his torso, opting to simply lean forward over the sink and pour water over his head to clean his face. He was cleaning his back when he felt a raised piece of flesh and poked at it curiously. He looked carefully in the mirror and neither saw nor felt any other burns or scars that he should’ve had from Hell, which was alarming in itself. He turned around and looked over his shoulder, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

On his waist, red and definitely fresh, was a _handprint. A fucking handprint!_

He moved his arm back to touch it again when the windows began to rattle and the bottles fell off of where he had kept them balanced on the sink.

_‘Demons’_

Castiel quickly got out and looked around for salt, lining the windows and doors with it. As soon as the entrance was salted, the rattling turned into inhuman screeching that burst all the windows and Castiel had to get down on his knees to avoid it getting somewhere he didn't want it. He slapped his hands over his ears and knelt in a corner, trying to keep his eyes open in case whatever was doing this threw something at him.

After about 2 minutes, the sound finally stopped, leaving stillness and an unsettling calm behind. Castiel carefully stood up, wincing when he felt something on his hands. Slowly, he looked at his hands.

_‘Please be water, please be water, better yet, please be nothing - it’s blood. Great’_

Castiel wiped his hands on his jeans and, collecting whatever clothes he had taken off, went back out to his car. Screaming gas stations was a bit too much to deal with after fresh resurrection.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a couple more hours before Castiel reached Bobby’s house and he still had no idea how he was break this situation to him. He was hoping that Bobby would be alone because it would be easier to convince Gabriel of his resurrection if Bobby agreed as well.

He stopped the car and got out, loitering around the car for a while, knowing full well he was stalling the inevitable. He looked around the yard, trying to find a sign that anyone was home, only seeing Bobby's pickup truck. He heard a door slam somewhere and knew it was time to show himself.

True to what he thought, by the time he reached Bobby's front door, it was open and Bobby was ready with a shotgun, silver knife, holy water and everything else in case he could be anything other than human.

“I’ll just let you do the tests before I explain anything.” Castiel said, his sincerity earning him a generous splash of rose scented holy water to the face.

Today was going to be a long day.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

After a disgusting amount of salt, some minor cuts, other tests and a bone-crushing hug, Castiel was now sitting in Bobby's house eating sandwiches with tomato soup, explaining his return, bar the ‘Hell Experience’.

“So yer tellin’ me that somethin’ pulled yer idjit ass outta Hell and ya just woke up in the middle of nowhere?” Bobby asked for what seemed like the seventh time. Castiel gave a long suffering sigh.

“Yes Bobby, that is what I said. One minute I was in Hell, then I was in a coffin in the middle of a field. It was jarring.”

“That all ya gotta say, ya idjit?” Bobby said, taking a swig from the flask he had taken out when Castiel first started his story. “Anything else?”

Castiel contemplated hiding the handprint from Bobby, but it was related to the creature that pulled him out. It would come up sooner or later.

“Whatever pulled me out of Hell, left a… mark, of sorts on me.”

Bobby’s raised eyebrow told him he was not impressed. “Ya gotta be more specific boy. I didn't become a hunter reading romance novels.”

Castiel sighed and put his plate down. He stood up, turned around and pulled his shirt up far enough to reveal the handprint.

“Balls. What the hell is that?”

“From what I can tell, a handprint Bobby.”

“Don't get sassy with me boy, I can damn well see that there’s a handprint. What I wanna know is what the hell kinda thing does that? Ya sure ya don’t remember anything else?”

Castiel pulled his shirt down and contemplated telling Bobby. He could see that Bobby knew there was something he wasn't telling him, but he wasn't sure he wanted Bobby to know what he’d done. “Will you tell Gabriel if I tell you?”

“The boy’s ya brother, Castiel. He deserves ta know.”

“In that case I don't remember.” Castiel said, effectively shutting down that conversation. Bobby had known him and Gabriel since they were children, he knew when Castiel was not going to talk about something.

“How is Gabriel?” Castiel asked after a while. He barely held back from asking about someone suspicious hanging around. Bobby would think he sold his soul again as soon as he came back. When he saw Bobby wince, he immediately knew Gabriel had tried to do something stupid.

“Bobby?”

“He’s fine boy, don't get ya panties in a twist.” Bobby took a swig from his flask, thinking over what to say to not have Castiel rushing out the door. _‘Fuck it’_ “The boy tried ta sell his soul.”

Castiel’s heart sank when he heard that. There was no way he heard that right, he did not spend decades in Hell just to lose his brother like this.

“Did - is he -”

“No one took the deal. Said one Novak was enough for a century. Idjit spent nights drinkin’ himself ta sleep after that.”

It was probably cruel of him, but Castiel was glad that no one had made the deal. But that left the question, what brought him out?

“Hell if I know.” Bobby said when Castiel asked the same. “In all my life I ain’t never seen anything like this happen before. I’d say demons but they ain’t got no reason ta throw ya out.”

They were about to start brainstorming when they heard Gabriel's horribly flashy and loud car roar up the driveway. Both froze with looks of horror on their face. Gabriel was going to be very difficult to handle.

“Balls.”

Castiel was going to hide - though in hindsight how the _hell_ would _that_ help - but by the time he put his bowl down Gabriel was already opening the door.

“Hey Bobby whose sweet ride is clogging up - “

Gabriel's face had a shocked expression when he first laid his eyes on Castiel but then slipped into a blank mask.

“Bobby - “

“It’s him boy. I did all the tests.” Bobby said, waiting for the imminent outburst. Castiel braced himself, ready to jump out of the way in case Gabriel decided to stab first and ask questions later.

Both were pleasantly surprised when Gabriel, instead of stabbing Castiel or declaring himself and Bobby insane, made his way to where Castiel was sitting and gave a tight hug, muffling sniffles into his shoulder

“Baby bro never _fucking do_ anything like that again you fucking asshat!” He said in a broken voice and Bobby and Castiel decided to let him compose himself before telling him about how it happened.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

“So something pulled you out of Hell and totally obliterated your burial site?” Gabriel asked, a thoughtful look on his face. “That shouldn't be possible, we cremated you.”

Castiel had resumed eating, currently on his 3rd bowl of soup, feeling uncharacteristically hungry, though neither Gabriel nor Bobby commented on it. Bobby and Gabriel were hitting the Scotch, trying to make sense of what happened.

“That ain’t got nothing ta do with resurrections boy.” Bobby said, groaning and standing up. “We need ta find out what’s got the juice to yank ya brother's sorry ass straight outta Hell.”

“Is that necessary?” Gabriel asked, turning worried eyes towards Castiel. “Can't we just take the gift horse and not question it?”

Castiel turned sad eyes towards Gabriel. “Gabe you know that's not how it works.” He could see that Gabriel was about to argue but cut in. “If no one made a deal for my life, then we need to know what brought me out of Hell and why.”

“And while we do you, boy, go get cleaned up. Yer stinkin’ up my place. And get some sleep, ya look like ya need it. Yer clothes are in yer room.” Bobby said, throwing a few tomes lying around in front of Gabriel, making him groan.

“C’mon, Bobby! Can't I have a shower too? I get tired too you know.”

“Boy if ya don't get yer ass - “

Castiel smiled and left the two to gripe over research, Gabriel’s least and Bobby's most favourite part of hunting and went up to the room he normally stayed at when they camped out at Bobby's house. It was like it always was, somewhat dusty, but they'd dealt with worse in their life. He took his towel and went to the bathroom, prepared to take a long, hot shower without interruptions.

He turned on the shower and stripped, taking a good look at himself in the mirror while he waited for it to warm up. His skin looked and felt baby soft, and the scar he had just below his ear from a botched wendigo hunt was gone. When he looked elsewhere, all the other scars he had were gone too.

_‘What kind of supernatural creature likes being a skin therapist?’_

He had just turned around to enter the shower when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Castiel looked back into the mirror…

And screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel's heart almost stopped when he heard Castiel’s scream and within a second he was up and running towards the bathroom. _‘What the hell happened did something get into Bobby's house I shouldn't have left Cassie alone good fucking job Gabe what the fuck - ‘_

“Cassie you okay? Cassie!”

“Don't come in!”

By now Bobby had made his way up as well and had picked up his salt-rounds filled shotgun, ready to start shooting.

“Cassie what the hell’s going on in there?!”

“N-Nothing I-I - “

“Fuck it I’m coming in!”

“Boy - “

Gabriel ignored both Bobby and Castiel and threw himself at the door.

“GABE NO!”

The door slammed open.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Bobby was chugging whiskey like a sailor, Castiel was on the couch, looking ready to cry like the time when Naomi told him they couldn't keep a guinea pig and Gabriel had been laughing for a better part of the hour.

“AHAHAHA I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE - “

“THIS IS NOT FUNNY GABRIEL! I feel violated, what kind of evil creature does something like this!”

“One with a good sense of humour.” Gabriel said, dissolving into giggles and wiping tears from his eyes. “Hehehe never thought I’d see this day in my life and it's glorious!” Gabriel would’ve went on but Castiel had a ‘Category 6’ squint which meant ‘you are dead to me and the next time you are in a life threatening situation I won't even blink an eye while seeing you die’, so he reined in his laughter and pulled out a strawberry lollipop out of his jacket. “You gotta admit baby bro, a handprint on the ass is funny.” From his place in the armchair Bobby groaned.

“Boy I already seen enough of ya idjit asses when ya were kids, I don't need ta see more.”

Castiel growled in agitation. “When I find what did this I’m going to rip its heart out and stuff it into salt and vinegar filled jars and - “

As Castiel was going on about the treatment the mystery creature would receive, the glasses and tables in Bobby's living room started shaking. It started small, then spread to the windows and then the entire house.

“Shit!”

They all fell to the floor immediately, covering their ears. Gabriel nearly screeched when bits of glass fell over him.

This time the noise lasted for a significantly shorter time, leaving the same unsettling silence behind. Slowly, after making sure that they weren't in the danger of getting impaled by a stray… something, they got up, looking around with wild eyed. Gabriel immediately took out his guns and Bobby cocked his shotgun, although it seemed futile now that whatever did that was supposedly gone.

“What the _fuck_ was _that_?” Gabriel asked, going around making sure all the sigils in Bobby's house were intact.

“Whatever it was it ain't a demon boy.” Bobby said, going to the room where most of his obscure lore was. “At least, not the ones we’re used ta.”

“So what, demons are evolving now? I didn't know Darwin counted them as a lifeform.” Gabriel said, suspiciously eyeing thin air.

“I’m sorry.”

Both Gabriel and Bobby turned their heads towards Castiel.

“Now what are ya sorry for boy? You didn't do nothing, did ya?”

Castiel looked down and fingered the sleeves of his shirt. “This thing followed me back to your house. I shouldn't have come back here.”

“Bullshit. Ain't no screeching banshee gonna get the jump on me. This old man saw a lot o’ action in his day.”

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel’s smirk was… the same as it always was. “We’re talking sexy action or digging up graves action?”

“Both.”

With marginally light hearts, all three picked up a book and threw themselves back into research.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

7 hours and countless books later, Gabriel was whining and Castiel was suppressing increasingly tired yawns when Bobby found something.

“All right ya idjits. Apparently what pulled yer ass outta Hell was an angel.”

Gabriel looked at Bobby with suspicion in his eyes while Castiel looked unsure. “What?”

“Bobby are you _sure_ you're okay?” As soon as he said this, he dodged a smack aimed towards his head.

“I'm paranoid boy, not looney!”

Castiel slid the book towards himself and took a look at what it said.

“The only thing that can pull souls outta Hell and leave a mark are angels. No idea why it happens but there ya go.”

“C’mon Bobby, everyone knows angels aren't real! They're just harp-strumming figments of imagination.” Gabriel said, sucking noisily on his candy and making strumming motions with his hands. “And what kind of angel would smack someone's ass hard enough to leave a mark?”

“Ask yer brother’s ass that, idjit.” Bobby said, taking the book back and looking for something.

“Will you _please_ stop bringing my ass into this.” Castiel groaned, glaring at Gabriel’s creepily smiling face. “What?”

“Cassie and mystery angel sitting in a tree~”

“Gabe no!”

They were interrupted by Bobby slamming a book on the table. “I got a way to summon ourselves an angel, but we’ll need a name.” He said, stroking his beard.

Castiel and Gabriel looked at each other. “Scott?”

“Who the everloving fuck is Scott?”

“You said you wanted a name.” Gabriel said, gesturing with his lollipop. Bobby, without wasting a moment, smacked him on the head. “Okay, I deserved that.”

Castiel was puzzling over something else. “Bobby, how does this book not have any information on angels besides them pulling people out of Hell and a way to summon one?”

“I don't know boy,” Bobby's beard rubbing increased in frequency. “But I got no other idea and you got no other options.”

“Yes we do!” Gabriel chimed in. “Let us forget the mystery ass-smacker and go for drinks! My treat!”

Bobby and Castiel stared at Gabriel, faces unimpressed and blank. Gabriel sighed.

“Okay, _fine_! But as you said, we need a name, where do we get that from?”

Castiel fingered the pendant Gabriel had given him when they were children, a rough looking crystal set in strong leather and went through his mental dictionary of angels. His father had a lot of books with references to angels. Nothing particularly useful for a hunter, but hopefully enough for this.

“We could try Michael? He’s supposed to be the leader of God’s army so he would know what's going on.”

Gabriel slammed his head on the desk with a dull _thunk_. “So we call the Big Daddy himself, _great_. Can’t we just ring up God while we're at it, say hello, get his address, send fruit baskets and very politely ask what the fuck does he want?”

“Ya got a better angel to call, ya idjit?”

“Yeah, a Victoria's Secret Angel, how about that?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and Bobby muttered under his breath. “I ain't got time for yer foolin’, I gotta get the ingredients ready.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a storm brewing but they paid it no attention. They chose a barn some distance away from Bobby's house and got to work. They had nothing on how to ward or trap angels, but the empty walls creeped Gabriel out so for his own satisfaction, he drew all the wards and sigils he knew on them. On the plus side, if this thing _wasn't_ an angel, which Gabriel vehemently insisted upon, then they wouldn't be caught unawares.

Bobby prepared the ingredients and when that was done, picked up the matchbox. “All right. Ya boys ready?” Castiel loaded his shotgun and nodded, sticking the demon-killing knife in his belt.

Gabriel raised his hand. “What if I say I’m having second thoughts?”

Bobby lit a match and threw it in the bowl. “Too late princess.” Castiel started reading out the summoning spell and by the time he was done, the ingredients were ashes. Now started the waiting game.

The only noise for a few minutes was of the rain pelting against the roof and the wind howling, although Castiel thought he heard a faint thump somewhere. _'Must be the storm throwing things.’_ Bobby had a super-soaker with holy water and a silver knife in case whatever they were facing was vulnerable to it and Gabriel had various guns with salt rounds.

_BAM_

All three of them instantly pointed their weapons towards the barn door, which had opened revealing a…

_'An underwear model?’_

_'Ooh looky, he’s cute. Too bad he’s about to die.’_

_'I’m too old fer this shit damnit!’_

A quick glance overall showed a handsome man, green eyes and a cocky smirk on his face with kind-of-but-not-really blond hair, wearing probably a store's worth of plaid with jeans and a leather jacket.

Gabriel immediately started firing and even though Castiel was sure salt wouldn't do anything, he started firing as well.

“Calling me down just to shoot me? That stings, Cas.”

Castiel gave the mystery creature a mix of a squint and a glare, something Gabriel said was unique to him. “What are you and how do you know my name?”

Leather jacket guy grinned. He waved a hand and the shooting stopped. Castiel looked back to see both Bobby and Gabriel lying on the floor. He was about to ask what the hell the guy did to them, but as soon as he turned back around, leather jacket was standing right in his face, making him jump back and pull the trigger, only hearing a _click_. “I'm Dean, and I’m the one who raised your pretty ass from Perdition.”

At that sentence Castiel remembered the handprints and, admittedly in a moment of foolishness, throwing his shotgun, stabbed the guy right in the heart with the demon-killing knife, only earning a, frankly ridiculous, pout for all his efforts.

“Okay, that _actually_ stung. Is this how you treat guys who save you from Hell’s torture, no wonder you're single!” leather jacket - _Dean_  - said, fingering the holes in his shirts and seriously the _sheer amount_ of plaid he was wearing could act as an armour on its own who the hell _does_ that?

“I might be single but you’ll be dead if you don't tell me what you did to those two and what you want from me.” Castiel pushed the knife in further just for effect. “And who you are, because we didn't call you and I don't remember any angel named Dean.” He added as an afterthought.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Fiesty, I like it. I _am_ Michael but I prefer Dean so call me that while I’m here.” Dean said nonchalantly, pulling the knife out and _tying it into a knot!_ Castiel was sure he was staring bug-eyed but it was justified, in his opinion. “Your friends are taking a little power-nap, they'll be up by the time I’m gone and as to _why_ I pulled you out of Hell,” Dean took on a more serious tone, for a moment all mischief leaving his eyes. “Heaven's got a job for you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, you're leaving out the part where I don't believe you are an angel. They don't exist.” If he was going to do anything in cahoots with something claiming to be Heaven's General himself, he was going to need solid proof.

Dean's already annoying smirk materialized on his face again. He simply stood there, till it seemed that the light was moving _towards_ him, and suddenly he seemed so much _bigger_ than what Castiel was seeing. He looked behind Dean and nearly collapsed. On the wall were shadows. Huge, black shadows of six wings, nearly covering half the barn.

As soon as it happened, everything was back to normal again, as if Castiel hadn't seen the proof of being in the presence of something infinitely stronger than even he was used to as a hunter.

Castiel stared with an open jaw for a moment before composing himself. “Why me?”

“Why not?”

It bothered Castiel that Dean seemed completely serious and _sincere_ when he asked that. He looked back to check if Gabriel and Bobby were still knocked out and whispered. “You know what I did.”

Dean’s face took a sympathetic look, eyes looking him over with genuine curiosity and said, very quietly as if he was having a life-changing revelation. “You don't think you deserve to be saved.”

“Not after what I did down there.”

Dean seemed as if he were going to say something else, but held himself back. “How about we talk about this later, your folks are waking up.”

Before Castiel could object, Dean was gone with a sound like flapping wings.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I’LL - CASSIE WHERE IS HE?”

“Quit yer yellin’ boy, the President could hear yer yappin’ from here!”

_'If Dean leaves the explanations to me again I’m suing God on charges of false advertisement.’_

Outside, the storm subsided.


	3. Chapter 3

Samael was sitting in a diner just outside Kentucky, waiting for his brother to come back with a report on the Righteous Man. He hadn't been able to see him before, because Dean was a mother hen with no one else to fawn over  _ \- 'Reputation Sammy!’,  _ but he had heard from the garrison Dean took with him that his soul was a guiding beacon in the depths of Hell. Even Dean went on and on about how he had never seen a soul that bright since that squirrel that lived behind the Japanese Emperor's palace in the 1400s.

 

Sam had wanted to accompany Dean, but Dean wanted to make a  _ dramatic entrance  _ and refused on the grounds that a trip into Hell would be too dangerous and his moose ass couldn't be sneaky enough.

 

He was mentally reciting the Quantum Theory of Radiation - and all the mistakes within it - when he sensed his brother's grace get closer. He looked up in time to see Dean walk into the diner, flashing a smirk in the general direction of… something. He rolled his eyes and hoped that somehow no one would know he was with him, but of course, no such luck. Dean saw him and waved like a fledgling on a nectar rush.

 

“Heya Sammy what's- “

 

“What was he like?!”

 

Silence.

 

“Aww, Samantha has a crush!”

 

“Damnit Dean!” Sam shot Dean Bitchface™ #66 while Dean sat down and made a show of looking over the sad looking menu with eight items. 

 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Samantha, let me order first.” Dean said, enjoying the upgrade from #66 to #78. 

 

“We don't need to eat, Dean.” If Sam was allowed to burn a hole through Dean, he would have done so already.

 

“I do after being stabbed and shot.”

 

Sam’s expression immediately changed to concern. “What do you mean ‘stabbed and shot’? Did demons get you? Are you sure you're alright?”

 

“I'm okay, Sammy!” Dean said, putting down the menu and giving his order to the waitress who had materialized from the other side of the diner as soon as she could sight of Dean. Hearing his order though, seemed to have changed her mind about whatever she thought about him because instead of looking openly flirtatious she looked worried and a bit scared.

 

As soon as she left Dean got back on topic. “Cas and his folks were worried that whatever pulled him out of Hell didn't mean any good so they were prepared with almost every fucking spell and ward I’ve known hunters to have.” Dean looked… almost  _ fond  _ for a moment, but then he pouted. “I don't like his brother. The guy shot me without any warning.” Then he pouted more. “And Cas stabbed me as soon as I told him I raised him from Hell.”

 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he didn't like your work.”

 

“I even gave him a sweet ride! Dad knows that pimpmobile should've been crushed and melted by now!” Dean's pout was reaching ridiculous levels by now and Sam was scared if he didn't stop, his face would freeze that way.

 

“You left a handprint on his ass, Dean.”

 

“The guy made me run around Hell looking for him, Sammy! My feathers almost got singed!”

 

Conversation seized as the waitress came back with four extra large bacon cheeseburgers and two plates of onion rings. It was amusing to see her practically sprint away from their table to hide behind a wall. Apparently she wanted to see if this was a prank or if Dean was actually going to stomach all that. Poor girl. 

 

“Did you tell him?” Sam asked, giving a long suffering sigh when Dean took a huge bite of burger to avoid the question. “Dean he needs to know. It will be easier if you tell him from the start instead of him finding out later from someone else.”

 

Dean sighed, “I will tell him Sammy, just, after he gets used to having an angel around.” Dean said with food in his mouth and Sam could sense the disgust the poor waitress was feeling from way over where she was. “I know we can't keep it from him. Heaven and Hell are gonna be after him after the stunt we pulled.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“An actual angel of the fucking Lord told you that Heaven has a job for you? And you believe him? Cassie that's most ridiculous fucking thing I’ve ever heard! What’s next, Jack Skellington coming to steal Valentine's Day?!”

 

Gabriel had been expressing his sheer disbelief and distrust in the entire situation for the past hour and, no matter how much Castiel tried to get him to understand, kept claiming that Castiel had been bamboozled and that they needed to hunt down whatever Dean was supposed to be.

 

“Gabriel, I told you, I saw the wings, he literally gave me proof because I asked for it, not to make sure I wouldn't ask, he - “

 

Gabriel turned to him. “Did you see a halo? A huge fucking harp playing gospel? Cassie that guy - “

 

“Gabriel with how vehemently you are denying what I saw I’m starting to think that you don't trust me as a hunter anymore!”

 

Bobby simply muttered something about ‘insufferable idjits’ and refilled his glass. He knew Castiel and he could tell the boy was telling the truth, but Gabriel didn't like listening to anyone else's voice when he could listen to his own. Castiel had barely finished his account of what had happened when Gabriel had started his rant.

 

“Cassie that's not - “

 

“Boy, sit yer idjit ass down!” Gabriel whirled around to protest but Bobby glared at him till he sat down reluctantly. “Yer brother knows what he's talkin’ about. We both were lyin’ with our mugs on the ground so listen to the boy who saw what fuckin’ happened!” He softened his tone with with Castiel. “Boy, ya sure this guy's an angel?”

 

Castiel grumbled. “Yes Bobby, I’m sure.”

 

Bobby stood up and made to go to the kitchen. “Then when this… Dean… comes here again, we’re gonna sit his feathery ass down and demand more than 'Heaven’s got a fuckin’ job’.” Bobby rummaged in the fridge and threw some leftovers in the microwave Gabriel had stolen from somewhere and parked in his house. “Now ya boys are gonna eat some food, cheer up ya pretty faces and go the fuck to sleep.”

 

10 minutes later Gabriel was still pouting at the whole situation, which now consisted of leftover beans, as was always the norm in Bobby's house. Usually Gabriel was the one to cook, but his brother's death had hit him hard and he hadn't really cared if he was eating at all or not, but now after suddenly having his brother back and a  _ supposed _ angel hanging on their backs, he was worried because he had  _ no fucking clue what the fuck was going on _ .

 

“The fuck kind of an angel name is  _ Dean  _ anyway.” He grumbled.

 

Castiel’s eye-roll was legendary. If there was ever a prize for eye-rolling, Castiel would have won it. “The kind of name an angel would use when they don't want anyone else to know who they are.”

 

“All of us know who he is, he’s supposed to be Heaven's General!”

 

“Boy, I’m pretty sure ther’re others, such as  _ demons _ , who he don't want to know his name. Quit yer yappin’ and eat yer food so we can all sleep. My joints are creakin’ from nappin’ on the floor.”

 

Gabriel grumbled. “I still don't like this.”

 

“You never like anything Gabriel, get over it. Have some candy if that helps.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was nearing midnight, Castiel was lying in bed, reading an obscure book on Scandinavian lore and munching on some candy corn that he stole from Gabriel. In the next room over, Gabriel was snoring and moving on the uncomfortable mattress and Bobby had taken the comfortable couch downstairs. He had tried as well but gave up after one and a half hour. There was too much on his mind.

 

He didn't understand what _ Heaven _ of all places could need from him and he had no idea why Mi –  _ Dean _ – why Dean would try to hide his identity from them when he knows that they couldn't have summoned him without his true name. He was mulling this over when he felt a vague feeling of discomfort. He looked around on instinct, only to come face to face with green eyes and freckles.

 

It was a testament to how hardened he was as a hunter that he didn't make a sound, simply jumped to get his gun from under his pillow and trained it towards Dean.

 

A moment passed and then Castiel sighed, rubbing his temple. “Is this going to be a common occurrence?”

 

“Depends.” Dean said with a fake contemplative look on his face, then grinned childishly. “Will you have the same reaction every time?”

 

“The novelty will wear out with time.” Castiel said, putting away his gun and sitting back. “Why are you here?”

 

Dean looked visibly uncomfortable at the question. “Can't an angel come around to visit the guy he pulled out of Hell?”

 

Castiel's face was basically a telenovela at this point.

 

Dean sighed. “Fine, there's something you need to know.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“See, I told you there’s something shady about this whole business! They fucked up in Heaven and now they're fucking up here!”

 

Gabriel had finally met Dean and his brother Samael. The moment he saw Sam he had started flirting without any remorse, but once Dean told him what they had to say, his flirting ceased. Now he was cursing high heavens and complaining about getting sucked into something he wanted no part in. Castiel, in the meantime, was morosely sitting in a corner not looking at anyone and Bobby was glaring at both of them. Sam’s enthusiasm at meeting Castiel was considerably dimmed when he saw how apprehensive Castiel looked.

 

Apparently, Castiel and Gabriel were vessels for Michael and Lucifer, which was why he was pulled out of Hell in the first place. He was also supposed to have gone there in the first place, which wasn't a consolation. They were supposed to let Michael and Lucifer wear them to the apocalypse and bring about the end of the world by breaking the first seal. And because  _ that  _ wasn't enough, now they were being hunted by the entirety of Heaven. Dean had refused to fight the Devil because one time fighting the Devil was enough for him and he didn't want to fight against his own brother again. Sam had joined Dean as they were extremely close, bordering on codependent. Now the angels wanted them reset so they could get Lucifer out and start Armageddon.

 

Needless to say, no one was sure what to feel. 

 

On one hand, Dean himself told them that he didn't want to take Castiel as his vessel, so they wouldn't have to worry about that, but Gabriel didn't have that assurance and Dean and Sam couldn't very well hang over their heads all the time with the seals breaking here and there.

 

“We're fucking screwed!!”

 

Gabriel was right for once.

 

Castiel rubbed his temples and tried to think rationally. Dean hadn't said a word ever since Gabriel started his Song of Imminent Doom, choosing to conspicuously glance at Castiel to gauge his reaction.

 

“Boy shoutin’ ain't gonna put the seals back in place!” Bobby said, sounding as annoyed as everyone was with the situation collectively. “We need to know what we can do now ta  _ not _ let no angels get near you buncha idjits.”

 

“We have wardings that could hide you from angels.” Sam tentatively provided, looking ridiculously small even though he was nearly a giant for all purposes.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Then what are you waiting for gigantor, Judgement Day? Get to it!” 

 

Dean and Sam looked at each other and stood up. Gabriel felt he should’ve thought that sentence over.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I feel violated.” Gabriel groaned for the seventh time in as many hours. “Absolutely  _ violated  _ and _ used  _ and -”

 

Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation and Sam prayed to Father for patience. For the past seven hours Gabriel had been complaining about the wardings they carved into their ribs,  _ on their insistence. _

 

Bobby had quietly stepped away and refused on the grounds that he wasn't being hunted by anyone for anything.

 

Castiel wasn't so lucky and had to suffer through the same fate as Gabriel, although he was much less vocal and a lot more squinty-glarey about it.

 

“What next?” Castiel asked, breaking Gabriel out of his complaining. 

 

Gabriel sat up holding his ribs, in no manner ready to let the matter go without ill-timed pranks and regret all over.

 

Dean nearly cheered and Sam sighed in relief, before Dean gave them their first,  _ mission _ , of sorts.

 

“There's a seal in Wyoming that the demons could know about-” 

 

And that's how Team Fuck-The-Apocalypse was created.

**Author's Note:**

> Any enquiries? Need to know the author? Hate veiled as constructive criticism? Hit me up on Tumblr. 
> 
> https://fireauricle.tumblr.com


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